FTEC, Saturday Evening shift

[canlendyouahand]

Igor trundled into the clinic, a bag of noses over his shoulder. Already their kicks were starting to slow. "Ah well, they were never made to last," he muttered as he settled in for his shift.

Scraps barked in agreement and started sniffing his away around the clinic. Noses had been here, and he could smell them.

[ooc: And any noses still out in the world will stop moving by nightfall!]